


Cursing Sharp Stones

by Tamorasky



Series: Mistress Anna [2]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternative Universe - 1850s, Canadian frontier AU, Colonization, Eventual Smut, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Illness, Metis Culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27537070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamorasky/pseuds/Tamorasky
Summary: It wasn't uncommon for the women to be eventually cast aside, Elsa knew this all too well. Yet was unable to protect her sister.
Relationships: Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney), background Anna/Kristoff
Series: Mistress Anna [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848331
Comments: 16
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is Elsa's side of MA, it won't be as long but I wanted to write it SO bad!

Rupert’s Land, 1851 

Elsa stands off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest as she watches her younger sister embrace their mother. She does not like any of this, wishing she could board up Anna in the house and keep her from going to the fort with their father. But knows that Anna had the willpower of a buffalo and would not be swayed. 

The auburn-haired girl turns to Elsa, bounding towards her with glee. Anna takes Elsa’s hands into her own, mirroring eyes reflecting against one another. 

“I still do not think you should go.” The older sister warns, her mouth pressed into a thin line as her forehead creases.

“I will be fine!” Anna reassures, squeezing Elsa’s hand in her own. “And really it is only for a few months, the summer will be over in no time.” 

Elsa wraps her arms around Anna’s shoulders in an instant, holding her sister close. “You be careful while you are there.” 

“I know, I know. Do not get involved with a white man.” Anna giggles, pushing out of Elsa’s embrace. “Ki shaakiihitin.” 

“Ki shaakiihitin.” Elsa repeats, forcing a smile as she watches her younger sister meander towards the carriage, where their father waited for her. 

The brunette steps forward, shoving her hands into the pockets of her buckskin jacket as she watches the carriage pull away with her sister in it. Standing next to her mother, Elsa sighs loudly, catching Iduna’s attention from the road. 

“What is it sa jaang?” The matriarch asks, placing a hand on her daughter’s back. 

“I do not like this.” Elsa states sternly, her narrowed eyes still fixated on the road. Reluctantly she looks away to her mother, whose own features are unreadable. “How do you feel about this all?” 

Iduna sighs, glancing down at her moccasins. “This is a choice Anna has to make. It is not up for us to decide.” 

“You could have told her to stay,” Elsa states, pulling away from her mother without another word, ignoring as Iduna calls out for her to return. 

The brunette ventures into the bush, further away from their river lot. She could not believe that her mother had allowed Anna to leave Ahtohallan, the safety of their community for Fort Arendelle. Iduna of all people should know what these journey’s entailed; Anna would return to Ahtohallan pregnant with child, or worse, engaged to a white man.

Elsa remembers living in Arendelle with their father as a young girl, Anna was not yet born. She can still recall the night their father cast them out of his home, throwing his pregnant wife and young daughter to the wilderness. 

She comes to the river, her toes kissing the water’s edge as she wraps her arms around herself, staring across to the other side. Thinking back to only yesterday, when her and Anna played in the water, splashing and tricking one another. Now Elsa is alone and would be for the entire summer.

Her ears perk up as she hears rustling in the bush behind her. Elsa spins around, her eyes scanning the forest to locate the source of the noise. Certain that it must be a rabbit or deer, but one could never be careful with Fort Arendelle and Carlton nearby. 

A figure moves through the trees, in that moment Elsa wishes that she had brought her gun to protect her. She slowly crouches to the ground, picking up a sharp rock into her hands, curling it into her fist as she yells out. “Who is there?” 

The figure proceeds closer toward the riverbank as Elsa’s grip on the stone tightens, digging painfully into her palm. The brunette expects a white man to emerge from the forest, watching her as if she is prey to him. But no man emerges. 

Elsa’s hold of the stone loosens as the figure emerges. Her blue eyes widen as they step onto the riverbank. A Cree woman stares back at the Metis women, sky-blue eyes meeting ones the colour of chestnuts. The woman’s dark brown hair is secured in a braid, her shoulders covered in a dark brown shawl with a rust-coloured skirt peeking out from underneath. 

Elsa glances down to the Cree woman’s side, noticing the two rabbits she held. The woman in front of her is most likely from the nearby encampment, Yelana’s tribe. Elsa drops the stone finally, offering a polite smile to the other woman. 

“Your hand is bleeding.” The woman states, staring at Elsa’s hand. The brunette glances down at her hand, noticing that there is in fact a small gash on her palm. 

“O-oh, I did not notice it.” Elsa stutters. Her cheeks flushing, in what the young woman is certain is embarrassment. The other woman giggles, causing Elsa to glance back up at her, managing a smile. 

“Let me help you with that.” The Cree woman reaches into a small bag, Elsa had not even noticed at her side. The woman takes out what looks to be a roll of gauze, steeping towards Elsa, the stranger demands. “Hold your hand out.” 

With some hesitancy, Elsa holds her hand out to the stranger, allowing her to take her hand. Elsa’s palm faces towards the sky as the woman gently wraps the hand. 

“You just carry this stuff around with you?” Elsa inquires.

“My brother has been known to be clumsy from time to time.” The stranger shrugs, wrapping the hand once more before cutting the piece of gauze from the larger bundle. 

“He and my sister would get along,” Elsa smirks, tucking the end of the gauze. She glances up again as the woman giggles, the soft laughter turning Elsa’s smirk into a genuine smile. “I’m Elsa.” She says, louder than expected, flinching at the loudness of her voice.

“I’m Honeymaren.” The woman responds, her gaze never leaving Elsa’s as she tucks away the gauze and knife. Elsa peers back at Honeymaren, thinking that maybe her summer won’t be as lonely as she thought it would be. 


	2. Chapter 2

Her bottom hurts as the cart rocks slowly side-to-side. She shifts her weight to relieve some of the pain from one side of her body. Elsa resists the urge to ask the man next to her for longer until they reach their destination, not wanting to sound like her sister. 

“Have you heard from Anna yet?” The blonde man inquires, his eyes focusing on the road in front of him. Elsa glances to Kristoff, who is slouching slightly as his forearms rest on his thighs, the reigns hanging loosely from his hand.

She smiles at him knowingly. “I have; she told me to say ‘hello’ to you.” A small smile crosses Kristoff’s features. The brunette woman suppresses a smile at his response. It is no small secret between Elsa and Kristoff’s older sister, Angelique, that the man next to her is hopelessly in love with Anna. 

Elsa rolls up the sleeves of her blouse, wishing she could be rid of the garment during the hot June day. She and Kristoff are practically siblings. The act would not bother him. But also knows she would be on the receiving end of Iduna’s switch if her mother found out about her indecency. 

Kristoff mimics Elsa’s action, rolling the sleeves of his tan shirt to his elbows. “Make sure to tell her I say ‘hello’ back. Is she having a good time in Arendelle?” 

“She is. Her maid at our father’s house is apparently a little gruff but is well-meaning.” Elsa responds, deciding to leave out her sister’s mention of a Mr. Westergaard, not wanting to cause Kristoff unnecessary worry. 

“I am glad to hear she is doing well. Ma and the girls were concerned when they heard Anna was going to Arendelle.” The young man says. 

“Why are we going to the Cree encampment?” Elsa inquires, changing the subject. She is unaware why the pair of them were leaving Ahtohallan for the day. Kristoff had shown up at the river lot that morning, insisting she joined him on a journey. 

“I have a connection at the encampment for pelts.” Kristoff states. The young woman raises a brow at him, knowing Kristoff is capable enough to trap beavers and trade them by himself. The blonde man sighs, observing her confusion. “He’s a better hunter than I am, and the Hudson’s Bay pays me better for the furs than they would him.” 

“You two are breaking the law,” Elsa states, glancing up at the canopy of pine trees providing them with sporadic shade. 

Kristoff shrugs. “So does the Hudson’s Bay.” 

“Yo-.” She sighs, knowing that he is right. It is something they never discuss at their house, out of fear that Iduna will say something to Agnar, and Anna never cared for trade politics, always wanting to remain in blissful ignorance. 

Glancing up at the sky, Elsa observes smoke rising from the treeline, wondering if that is perhaps where they are travelling to. Kristoff guides the horse towards the spot, confirming Elsa’s suspicions. 

The encampment is surrounded by pine and birch trees, seven tipis nestled between each tree. Kristoff guides the horses to the side of the beaten path, making Elsa’s departure from her side of the wagon impossible.  
  
She watches as Kristoff hoists himself from the cart, making his way to the back of the cart as Elsa shifts to where he had sat only moments ago. She slides off of the cart, grunting as her feet hit the earth with some force. 

Elsa places her hand on the shaft of the cart, waiting as Kristoff grabs a few satchels of tobacco out of the wagon. As he grabs the small packages, the blonde man comes to Elsa’s side, offering her a smile before meandering towards the village. She does not offer to help carry the sachels, knowing she should not touch the tobacco as she is nearly three days into her cycle. 

The young woman follows after Kristoff from a slight distance, watching as children flock to Kristoff’s side as they enter the encampment. The children tug on his clothes, trying to gain his attention by yelling and showing him tricks.

Elsa cannot help but smile at his interactions with each child. With four nieces and nephews, Kristoff had plenty of experience with children. As well as every community or church event they attended in Ahtohallan, Anna and Kristoff are always left to care for the young children. Anna always believed it was due to their ability to keep children entertained. But Elsa has remained convinced that it is a plot by the young mothers to push the two into marriage. 

The two walk through the encampment, smiling at the people they pass as they move towards the small encampment's northern point. A young man, perhaps Anna’s age, stands next to a travois, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed as he stares pensively at the ground. 

The brunette man glances up from the ground, removing himself from the travois to greet Kristoff and Elsa. As the young man reaches Kristoff, shaking hands before pulling one another into a hug, their laughter echoing throughout the encampment. 

Elsa stands awkwardly behind them, her hands folded in front of her as she stares up at the sky, avoiding staring at the men in front of her. Her eyes follow the clouds passing in the sky as the two men talk with one another. 

Kristoff calls out to her, taking her attention away from the sky back to the men. The brunette man’s gaze meets Elsa’s, offering the young woman a smile. Kristoff steps off to the side, waiting for Elsa to stand next to him. 

The brunette woman steps forward, extending her hand out towards the stranger, who takes her hand. “I am Elsa Arneson.” 

“Nice to meet you. I am Otêhtapiw. But feel free to call me Ryder.” The Cree man shakes her hand, withdrawing from her. “I work with Kristoff whenever he is in the territory.” 

“I am not gone that often.” Kristoff rolls his eyes, nudging the younger man with his shoulder. Ryder chuckles in response, hitting the blond man in the bicep. Elsa grins at the interaction, never having seen Kristoff act this way around anyone else but herself and Anna, not even his younger adopted brother. 

“You ready to see the yield?” Ryder inquires, wiping his hands on his trousers. He turns from the pair, walking further into the encampment.

“Yeah, let’s see what you caught.” Kristoff agrees, following after the other man. Elsa trails after the two men into the bush, stepping out of the way of children racing through the camp. 

She increases her pace to catch up with Kristoff, walking beside the man. “How do you know this guy?” 

“Pa used to bring Louis and me to the encampment to trade with the tribe as children. Since Louis started working at Fort Carleton, it has been just Pa and I.” Kristoff shrugs. 

“I did not know you came here often.” Elsa raises a brow. “I thought that all your free time was spent wasting time with Anna.” 

She smiles as Kristoff’s cheek become flush, glancing away from the young woman with a cough. Elsa would never tire of teasing him for his feelings towards her sister. 

The trio walk to the edge of the encampment, where one tipi is nestled against the trees. A lone woman sits on the ground, cleaning the animal skin in front of her. Various pelts hang on a wooden rack, drying out in the sun as the woman finishes up. 

“Êy! Are you almost done?” Ryder calls out, catching the woman’s attention. Elsa stops at the sight of her, the same woman from the riverbank nearly two weeks ago. Honeymaren. 

“If you helped me, instead of pissing off at every chance you get, it would go a lot faster,” Honeymaren spits, returning to her task before muttering audibly. “Fucking tugeye.”

Elsa’s hand fly to her face as a snort emits from her in response to the woman’s cursing. This reaction catches Honeymaren’s attention, causing her to finally look at Elsa and smile at the other brunette. 

Honeymaren stands from the ground, taking the pelt with her before hanging it on the rack with the other beaver pelts. Kristoff and Ryder come to stand beside her, asking her various questions about the furs. 

After a minute of questions, Honeymaren throws her hands up in the air in frustration. “You two are the traders. You decide which pelts are of better quality!” 

Elsa giggles, feeling sympathy towards the Cree woman having to deal with Kristoff and Ryder in nearly every transaction. Honeymaren crosses towards Elsa, wiping her bloodied hands on her rust-coloured skirt. 

In a moment, Elsa steps forward, meeting the other woman with a smile. “Honeymaren, right?” delighted as the Cree woman nods in response. 

“It is nice to see you again…” Honeymaren trails off, cocking a brow in question. “Elsa?” 

“That is correct,” Elsa confirms, glancing back to the men still looking over the pelts, inspecting each one at a painfully slow rate. She rolls her eyes, unable to believe how long it is taking them. “Are they always this meticulous?” 

“Unfortunately.” Honeymaren sighs, glancing over her shoulder to the men before facing Elsa again. “Honestly, I do not believe company men can tell the difference between a beaver pelt or a muskrat. But Ryder insists we take our time.” 

“Jesus, I thought this was going to be a quick trip.” Elsa groans, glancing up at the sky. She stops talking, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as she wonders if she is complaining too much. 

Honeymaren’s giggles provide relief to the Metis woman, who glances at Honeymaren with wide eyes. The Cree woman’s hand is balled in front of her mouth as if to stifle her laughter. 

“It could be at least another hour.” Honeymaren peers up at Elsa, a glimmer in her chocolate eyes as her laughter dies down. “Would you like to help me with the traps? You know, to pass the time.” 

“Traps?” Elsa inquires, intrigued by the woman’s offer. 

Honeymaren nods in response, holding her hand out to Elsa. “Come with me.” 

Elsa nods, hesitantly taking Honeymaren’s hand into her own, knowing that Stony Cree could be quite affectionate with people they know. The Metis woman allows herself to be guided through the encampment towards the bush, her heart pounding in her chest for an unknown reason. 

The two women walk through the forest, ducking under branches to avoid hitting them. Their voices and laughter resound throughout the trees as they inch closer to Honeymaren’s traps. 

They encroach onto the rabbit trails, and Honeymaren lets go of Elsa’s hand as they come to the area where the snare is. The Cree woman curses in her native language at the sight of no rabbit, but her trap having been chewed. 

“What is it?” Elsa asks, trying to peer over Honeymaren’s shoulder to get a better look at the trap. 

“I caught one. See the tracks?” Honeymaren indicates with her hand. She inches over, leaving room for Elsa by her side. The Metis woman goes to the other woman’s side, kneeling on the earth, noticing the indentation on the forest ground. “But he chewed himself free.” 

Elsa nods, seeing the bite marks in the snare wood, nodding as Honeymaren further explains the process of snaring rabbits. Elsa clings to every word out of the Cree woman’s mouth, finding the process fascinating.

Honeymaren glances at Elsa questioningly, wondering why the woman in front of her is listening to every word she says with such intensity. The Cree woman does not even realize she has ceased talking as she stares at Elsa. 

“My mother never lets me snare rabbits,” Elsa explains her fascination with the instruction. 

Honeymarens hums in response, sitting back on her legs. “White mother?” 

“White father. Metis mother.” Elsa corrects, resting her hands on her lap. Her fingers brush against the fabric of her trousers. The corner of her mouth twitches, trying to suppress her smile. For the first time in her life, someone did not know who her family was. 

“Why not?” Honeymaren questions, her hands running against the forest floor. 

“She thinks it is unladylike. I wanted to learn as a child, but my mother always barred the men in our community from teaching me.” Elsa explains, scratching her nail against her pants. “I think she would prefer me to be more compliant like my sister.” 

“Your sister?” 

Elsa nods, smiling down to the ground. “Anna. She is at Fort Arendelle with our father.” Her face falls as she begins to bite her bottom lip, her concern for her younger sister’s wellbeing. 

“I understand the sentiment,” Honeymaren comments, causing Elsa to glance up at the other woman. “My mother works at the fort for a family. I know how you must be feeling. It is such a strange and dangerous place; you never know if it is truly safe.” 

“Precisely, I like to think my father would help Anna. But, I don’t know if he actually would.” 

“I am sorry to hear that,” Honeymaren states, her gaze slowly taking in Elsa’s appearance. Her long brown hair braided into a single plait, like her own. The young woman thinks it is odd that Elsa wears men’s clothing instead of a skirt or dress. 

Elsa shrugs nonchalantly with a sigh. “My father has always been one to look out for himself. He’d be willing to whore Anna or me out to any man if it meant it would elevate his status in life.” 

“That is horrible. I am glad you have Kristoff by your side to dissuade your father from using you as a bargaining tool.” Honeymaren sighs as she shakes her head, unable to believe that any father would use a daughter as currency. 

“O-oh wait, no Kristoff and I…uh…” Elsa stammers, taken aback by the other woman’s assumption regarding her and Kristoff. “W-We are not together. In any capacity.” Elsa waves around her arms frantically, as if she is clearing smoke around them. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed because you two seem close.” 

“We are…close, that is. Just not…in regard to…that.” Elsa feels as if she is speaking louder than needed, clamping her mouth to stop herself from continuing. Deciding that the woman before her did not need to know that her interests do not lie with men. 

“I can teach you.” Honeymaren offers, smiling at the other woman as she changes the subject. Elsa’s brows furrow in confusion, not understanding what Honeymaren is offering. The Cree woman looks pointedly towards the snare then back to Elsa. “I even promise not to tell your mother.” 

In a moment, the Metis woman understands the offer. Elsa giggles at the promise, covering her mouth with her hand. Withdrawing it, her hand comes to rest on her knee once more. “I would like that.” 

Honeymaren stands from the ground, not bothering to wipe the dirt from her skirt or hands as she reaches out to help Elsa stand. Without any hesitation, Elsa takes her new friend’s hand, her knees cracking as she stands. 

The two women smile at one another, venturing further into the forest to check Honeymaren’s other traps. As they walk, Elsa tries desperately to ignore her heart pounding in her chest as Honeymaren takes her hand into her own as they continue on their journey. 

**Author's Note:**

> ALSO! I understand that Sami (who the Northuldra are based on) are an entirely distinct Indigenous group from North American Indigenous groups. I just thought this might be a fun thing to write especially since I study Fur Trade marriages and Metis Women.


End file.
